Hungry Eyes
by patricia51
Summary: Emma is Rosie's friend and has always been nice to her. But what Rosie desires from Emma is something much more powerful and urgent than friendship . Butch/Femme Femslash with toys and some rough sex. Emma/Rosie.
Hungry Eyes by patricia51

(Emma is Rosie's friend and has always been nice to her. But Rosie keeps having about her have nothing to do with friendship but something much more urgent? Butch/Femme Femslash with toys and some rough sex. Emma/Rosie.)

It's her fault. It is really. If she wasn't so gorgeous, if she wasn't so perfect I wouldn't have these wild desires. Desires to grab her and do things with her and to her that I can barely sort out in my mind.

I remember her the last time I saw her before she went off to camp. So simply dressed; as though she was going to the gym which she could not possibly need to do. A pullover top in a riot of colors showing the swell of her breasts and the flatness of her belly. Flowered spandex below, leaving her calves bare but clinging to upper legs and molded against that tight little ass. And from the front, oh my God, the material pulled between her legs and outlined her sex.

I've never cared for boys but other girls haven't done anything for me either. I just assumed that whatever sexual interest I had was either non-existent or dormant. Even when I first met Emma I didn't think of her like that.

I blush with the memory. When I met Emma I thought she was another of those empty-headed, self-absorbed porcelain princesses every one of whom has tried to make my life miserable. They usually don't succeed because I fight back. And I gleefully used Emma in art class to demonstrate my distaste for those stuck-ups. That was wrong. Because Emma isn't like that.

Oh she's privileged and rich and lives in a penthouse with a bedroom larger than my entire family s apartment. She has a Nanny and a Butler and her Mom is a Fashion Designer. But she really tried to be friendly with me at first meeting and she forgave me after I used her. And she forgave me again after I got carried away by Bryn. No wonder I love her.

I love her. But gradually I've begun to see that I don't love her as a friend or even as sister. I love her like a lover. Or want to anyway. Because she IS a friend, the best, heck forget best the only one I've ever had I've been scared to tell her that or make some kind of move on her. Even after last spring when she settled down pretty much just hanging out with each other and no one else.

That's because all that spring we practiced kissing. It started out as little girl pursed mouth barely touch the lips ones. But it progressed. We grew bolder. By the end of the school term it had reached the point that we were making out although we never went farther than kissing and maybe a little exploration with hands that didn't actually touch anything too personal.

We might have though. That last time we were together, just before the end of the school year. Arms around each other and the kisses building quickly until we were both moaning a little. We were becoming urgent. Emma was going away for the summer to train to be a camp counselor and we wouldn't see each other till the fall.

We weren't practicing anymore. This was real. And I had just got my hand between us; after all this time and longing finally touched her breast when that damn knocking came on the door.

"Emma, Rosie!" her nanny Jessie called. "Time to eat. Come on." The door knob rattled.

That finished THAT. We sprang apart, got our clothes straight and left, too embarrassed to even look at each other. I was worried that things were all over but I was wrong.

Emma had told me she would message me all summer long and send pictures from camp. Unfortunately I don't have a phone. Just can't afford one. But just before I slipped away that day she had a present for me.

"Here," she smiled, handing me a box, already open to display a brand new smart phone. "Now we can keep in touch."

We did. I don't know if my messages and pictures did to her what hers did to me though. So many pictures of her in her camp T-shirt and shorts. Short shorts in fact showing those long lovely legs and how they tanned over the summer.

But the one that kept me up at night was the one she sent me after she fell out of a canoe. I'm sure it was meant to just be funny with her hair all wet and bedraggled and the woe-begone look on her face. But for me it was her soaked t-shirt clinging to her. It showed that she didn't bother wearing a bra and the water was chilly enough that her nipples were so hard they were trying to poke right through the nearly transparent cotton.

It's not easy to have alone time at my home. But when I did I would pull up that picture, prop the phone where I could watch it and then dream about Emma as I masturbated. At first I used my fingers, one hand between my legs and the other on one of my breasts. I started out tapping and rolling that nipple and eventually graduated to tugging and pinching it. Then one day just as I was about to orgasm I suddenly twisted it. Hard. REALLY hard and it sent me right over the edge. I guess I kind of like things rough. I wonder if Emma does?

Now I do things differently. I jerk off. Well, kind of anyway. I'll explain.

I had no business in that adult store and the clerk there probably should have thrown me out. But I was the only one in there and she was bored so she let me stay. She even talked to me. Really talked to me, about my feelings and stuff like that. So when I left I had something with me.

She called it a strapon but it doesn't actually have straps. It has a base that fits up inside me with the rest sticking right out ready to use. She explained to me that if my hymen was still intact, and I wanted it to stay that way, I couldn't use it. Thanks to using an over long hairbrush handle on myself once that's not a problem. So I can work the one end into me and settle it so the knurled part touches my clitoris. Then I stroke it, pull it back and forth like a boy jerking off (I watch the internet, I know how they do it). I imagine Emma is doing it and then I'm doing her and then I'm biting my lip not to scream as I orgasm.

I usually dream about Emma. But sometimes I see someone on the subway or the street. Sometimes they're older; sometimes they're my age. Regardless the idea of being with them turns me on. Then there are the two regulars, the ones I dream of most often after Emma.

There's Jessie, Emma's nanny. I want Emma to be mine but I want to be hers as well. But Jessie now, her I want to own. I want to dominate her, spank her pink, and use her as a slut toy. I want to really be rough with her and have her beg for more.

After her there's the other one. I guess that one's really weird. I can't imagine what Emma would say if she knows that every now and then I dream about her mother Christina. I imagine her under me, those long legs wrapped around me while I slowly, steadily but relentless fuck her to multiple orgasms for both of us. Pretty strange huh?

The whole thing has me confused. Okay, I can accept myself as a lesbian. After all, although I'm in love with Emma, as I said she's not the only girl I fantasize about. It's the way I want to be with her, with them that has me a little up in the air.

I don't want to be a boy. I'm happy as a girl thank you very much. I am not going to cut my hair short, I love it long. I like having breasts, small though they may be and as for the rest of my original equipment I'm perfectly happy with it all thank you very much. I love the idea of exploring Emma's body from head to toes and everywhere in between with my lips and tongue and fingers. But when it comes right down to it I want to fuck her like a guy fucks a girl. I guess that makes me a butch. Or maybe a semi-butch. Beats me. As far as I'm concerned I'm just ME.

I have waited all summer. When Emma calls and asks me to come over I immediately head over there. When she mentions everyone else is gone for the afternoon I wish I could fly. I hurry over to Emma's building, dressed in my usual jeans and boots. Today I'm wearing a white button up shirt I bought at Sears' men's department. It hides the fact I'm not wearing a bra, not that I really need one all that much. But if anyone would look closely at the front of my jeans they might see the bulge there for I AM wearing my strapon right under my boxer shorts.

I nod to Tony and he sends me straight up to the penthouse. And there's Emma even more so than usual she takes my breath away when I see her. Once again no matter what she wears I find in enthralling. But today, oh my gosh. A simple yellow sundress with spaghetti shoulder straps, loose enough to make it clear she is not wearing a bra matched with plain white flats. So simple. So beautiful. So outclassing me in every regard. How can she possibly be interested in me like I am in her?

Then she flows up to me with her usual incredible grace and kisses me. Kisses me just like she was kissing me when we were interrupted last spring, open mouth and passionate. And I'm kissing her back and my arms go around her and pull her to me.

I'm glad I sprouted over the summer because now I'm almost as tall as she is. So when she wiggles against me and my hands threaten to slide down her back and over her butt I don't have to stand on tiptoes.

She breaks the kiss suddenly and draws back. For a moment I'm scared I have done something but then I see the twinkle in her eyes. She rubs her midsection against me again.

"Are you happy to see me or is that a rocket in your jeans? In fact, what IS it?"

It's the moment of truth. I don't know what's going to happen next but here it goes. I take her hand and press it against the bulge.

"Is that what I think it is?" she questions me. She doesn't take her hand away. Instead, my gosh, I think she's feeling me up.

In answer I unzip my jeans, letting the latex shaft come free. I'm shaking but determined to see this through be it win or lose. And her hand is still there.

"My goodness Rosie. This is a surprise. I'm not sure what to say or where we're going from here. If we're going anywhere at all that is."

I smile but I know it's a wicked, gotcha smile. Because I do have her even if she hasn't realized it yet, just as I m aware what she's doing even if she's not conscious of it. Yet.

"If that's so Emma, why are you still touching it?"

She looks down with the most deliciously startled expression on her face as though the hand wrapped around the latex cock is a stranger. Even then she doesn't stop sliding her fingers up and down. Stop? She plays with it more, teasing and tapping and jerking it.

I don't have to take a look myself. Every touch, every movement of her hand transmits to the section that fits up inside me. I could squirm if it wasn't for my determination to maintain control; of me and above all of her.

Her beautiful blue eyes are slightly glazed as she looks down. Her perfect pink lips are parted slightly and her breath is getting faster and faster. Speaking of those lips I know what to do next. I place my hands on her shoulders. I don't push hard; I just gently exert a little pressure.

"On your knees," I command her quietly.

I would not have been surprised to get an "Are you CRAZY?" response. Or maybe just a resounding "No way!". But Emma is as lost in this as I am. She is amazingly graceful as she sinks down. Her hands take my hips as she leans forward and I feel as well as see her lips slide over the shaft.

Her head bobs slightly and I run my fingers through those lovely golden locks. I doubt she's ever dons anything like this before. She tries too hard and chokes herself more than once. I keep myself from thrusting and let her go at her own pace of getting accustomed to sucking strapon. The thrusting will come soon enough. For this moment it's enough to enjoy my beautiful princess as she services me.

Gosh it's unbelievable how this feels. Every little motion of her mouth sends lightning sensations through me. I realize something. She's mine now but I'm hers as well.

"Emma," I moan. And now I'm tugging her up.

She comes to her feet. Her dress falls to the floor as she does. She steps out of her shoes and now the only thing she has on is a pair of skimpy white panties. Satin of course on my princess.

I pull her in and kiss her. The wet latex shaft is pinned between us again and I grind it against her belly. I grab her ass and yank her panties down. A touch of her hands and then it s my turn to go down; to go down on her.

Kneeling I slide her panties down her legs while my mouth closes on her my hands explore those smooth thighs, caress her behind the knees and enjoy the swell of her calves. My head bobs now as my tongue opens her and drags up and down her wet slit. Each time I reach the top of her pussy my tongue tip finds her clit. She quivers just as I did.

The moment I free her panties from her feet I'm back up on mine. One, two, three steps I push her back until she tumbles on the bed in a riot of tanned limbs and blonde curls. She recovers quickly. Her arms reach up over her head and she points her toes as she stretches out. Arching her back slightly she wiggles at me and smiles; a smile just as wicked as the one I gave her before.

"Rosie," she whispers and then wiggles again.

The blood in pounding in my head so hard I think my throbbing temples must show it. Here we are finally; what I've dreamed about for months. All that's left is to make her mine now.

I seize her ankles and pull her to the edge of the bed. She gasps. I lift those lovely legs and spread them wide. Moving right up to her the bulbous tip of the strapon is almost touching its target. I take a deep breath.

"Do it. Do it Rosie," Emma tells me breathlessly. "Do ME!" And I do.

My hips thrust. With my legs firmly braced and my arms holding her in place I bury nearly the entire length of the latex shaft in Emma. And her cry of pleasure is no louder than my own shout of triumph.

I should be slow, take my time, let us both enjoy this for as long as possible. But I can't, I have no control and from the way Emma is thrashing and begging for more I don't think does either. So I draw back and drive home again. And again. And again and again and again, my hips slamming back and forth in frenzy.

My God am I hurting her? Is this all too much to fast? I slow for a moment. Emma relieves my worries.

"Fuck me you hot little dyke," she gasps in a husky seductive voice, her eyes blazing. So I do.

I'm on top of her now, pushing her legs back and rolling her hips up. Each thrust bottoms out in her now, the entire length of the shaft disappearing in her. My strokes aren't as fast now but they're deep and since we've slid all the way on to the bed I can brace with my knees and use the strength I gained working out all summer to hammer her.

I can't believe she can bend like this. I could almost tuck her feet behind her ears. I can kiss her now and I do and she kisses me back. Somehow she gets her hands between us and opens my shirt. She grabs my breasts and squeezes. I like that. I pound harder and gasp "More!"

If I'm giving it to her she gives it back to me. Nimble fingers seize my nipples, nipples so achingly hard they hurt but need more. Sensing what I need Emma's fingers grip, tighten and twist unmercifully. Just what I want.

Growling furiously I rear up. She doesn't let go so, stretching my little tits and nipples. I pound her harder and harder in response, completely lost in a world where every sensation mixes together and ignites an explosion like I could never have imagined in my wildest fantasies. And Emma nearly throws my over her head as she thrashes and bucks under me.

We collapse on the bed. I'm amazed it held up for all of this. Our breathing slows. I roll on to my back and Emma cuddles against me, gently kissing my delightfully extremely sore nipples and murmuring little happy sounds.

"I wondered," she whispered, "just how you were going to do this, do us, do me. I've been dreaming of it all summer long but I must say you surprised me. Wonderfully."

We rest and relax for a bit, even dozing off a little as we calm down. I admit to her how I masturbated the entire summer to the picture of her after she fell out of the canoe. She giggles.

"Why do you think I sent that to you? You think I just happened to fall out of that canoe the one day I was wearing the thinnest t-shirt I could find and no bra? And right by the dock too so I my phone would be nearby and I could take that selfie for you. And you weren't the only one masturbating while we were apart!"

We talk softly a while longer then fall asleep. Fortunately Emma's plans for today had included the knowledge that we would be alone in the penthouse until tomorrow. So we wake up without worries that someone had discovered us. Just as well. Beyond anything else anyone might have seen I am still wearing the strapon. I never slept with it in before. But I doubt this will be the only time I do.

Emma stretches lazily, like the sexy little cat she is. On her side she lays her head on my shoulder and drapes one leg over mine. Her hand slips down and she fondles the dildo.

"Mmmmm."

"So," I tease her with the first wicked thought that pops into my head. "When are we going to do Jessie?"

"Soon," she replies. Then she's kneeling over me, straddling my hips with her hand still on the shaft so she can guide it into herself as she sinks down on it.

"But, my boyfriend who is my girlfriend, you're going to do me again first.

(The End) 


End file.
